Page 20 of Stuck with the Hero Next Door

“I think I’ve been running for a long time,” I admitted, surprising even myself. “After my mom died, it was like...every decision I made had to mean something. Like if I could just make my life useful enough, busy enough, I wouldn’t have to sit with the fact that she’s gone.”

Levi’s brow furrowed slightly, like he felt it, too.

“I get that,” he said. “Sometimes work’s easier than feeling.”

I let out a soft laugh. “You don’t seem like someone who hides from much.”

He shrugged, not arguing. “Maybe not now. But there was a time.”

His gaze drifted back to the water, and I knew there was more he wasn’t saying. That he’d wrestled with his own ghosts, probably still did. And yet, he made space for mine without flinching.

“I’m not used to this,” I said quietly.

“To what?”

“To someone just...listening. Not trying to fix it. Not trying to talk me out of feeling things. My dad’s like that; he tries to make up for Mom being gone. It can be a lot.”

Levi’s voice was low, almost amused. “I fix fences, not people.”

I smiled, the ache in my chest loosening just a little. “Still. It’s nice.”

We fell quiet again, but this time it was full of something warm. My gaze wandered back to Levi, his face lit by the fading light, and I felt a pull in my chest I wasn’t ready to name.

I didn’t know what I wanted yet. But for the first time in a long while, I was starting to feel the difference between running toward something...and running away.

And this—this didn’t feel like running away at all.

Levi tossed another pebble at the lake. It skipped twice, then sank. “I don’t think people always know what they’re chasing,” he said. “Sometimes we think it’s about one thing—a job, a person, a plan—but really, we’re just looking for something that feels solid.”

His words echoed something I hadn’t admitted out loud—not to myself, not even in the journal I kept zipped into the back of my bag. “What if you’ve spent so long chasing something that you don’t recognize solid when you find it?”

He turned to me then, not surprised. “Then maybe it’s time to stop chasing and stand still. See what holds.”

The breeze tugged at my curls, and I tucked one behind my ear, eyes on the water. “You make it sound simple.”

“It’s not,” he said. “But it’s worth trying.”

I thought of Miller’s Pass again, how clear it had seemed in my head. A town from my mom’s stories. A teaching job that mirrored hers. It felt right—on paper. But now, with the lake stretching out beside me and Levi’s quiet voice anchoring me, it didn’t feel inevitable anymore. It felt...optional.

“I’ve always believed in purpose,” I said. “Like, deeply. That there’s a reason we’re drawn to certain places, certain people.”

Levi nodded slowly, brushing the dirt from his jeans. “I do too. But I think purpose can change. Or maybe it grows when we do.”

His words wrapped around something inside me I hadn’t touched in a long time. I glanced at him, and this time I let myself really see him—the steadiness, the stillness, the way he didn’t fill silence with noise but with meaning.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

“Of course.”

“If your mom and Janet weren’t here..., would you still have stayed?”

He didn’t answer right away. The question hung between us like a thread in the wind. Finally, he looked at me—unguarded, unrehearsed.

“Yes,” he said simply. “I think I would have. Everwood isn’t perfect, but it’s honest. That’s enough for me.” He chuckled, maybe to himself. “And it would be tough to leave all those poultry-centric events and goat catastrophes behind.”

I laughed and let that settle. Honest. Not glamorous, not ambitious. But true.

“You know,” he added, voice softer, “if you’re looking for somewhere to land...Everwood wouldn’t be the worst choice.”